In The Wild

Baby E and I have ventured into the wild over the past two days. We hit up story time one day and a lunch date the next.

If you think people watching from a restaurant is fun, try story time. Little E and I watched as the toddlers stormed in, chose their spots, took off their coats and dove into their snacks (they come with copious goodies. I was jealous). Some sang their ABCs, while others negotiated with their parents. I was sure none of them would pay attention when the “story-time-man” made his appearance. Too my surprise, I was wrong.

This guy whipped out two books and tons of terrible accents to capture the attention of these kids, and they couldn’t take their eyes off of him. They chewed, smacked and took in every word.

The best part? My baby stayed calm and was quite observant. He gave a repeat performance the following day on our lunch date. He flashed his best smile at my friend and reluctantly digested puffs and yogurt melts, while I stuffed myself with pizza and good ol’ gossip.

This is huge for me. I’m feeling more confident and I pray that when my baby melts down, I’ll take it in stride. I’m attempting to make sure that we get out at least three times a week. I’d prefer for him to see some other kids during most of those outings. If we master exploration, I may never want to return to work again. We had so much fun.

Here’s what seems to work for us thus far:

1. Traveling after the afternoon bottle
2. SNACKS: I’m transitioning from all bottles all the time, so this takes some getting used to for me. I don’t have to pump him with formula. I can give him a few puffs and he’s cool. Things should get more fun when he eats more things, but we’re just learning to chew at the moment.
3. My thumb: Sure, I pack teething toys for the boy, but he prefers my thumb. So…yeah…as long as those little teeth don’t poke me, I let him have at it.

Sleepy Time Routine Fail

I thought I mastered this “baby sleep” routine thing. When other parents made Facebook posts about sleep training, I rolled my eyes and let out a sarcastic cackle.

See? My baby was sleeping at night without any extra work. WAS is the key word. We fed him, read to him and put him in the crib. He might have let out a whimper here or there, but honey, he went to sleep.

I was secretly and silently patting myself on the back, until THE TEETH. My easy nighttime sleeper started waking up in the middle of the night. He could barely breath through the flowing tears, snotty nose and red face. I couldn’t seem to comfort him with my normal tactics. You know? A pacifier and a few pats on the back. I had to pick him up and rock him. When I tried to gingerly place him in the crib, he would wake up and start wailing again.

I had to settle him down. I couldn’t have him disrupting my husband’s sleep (he is the breadwinner). So I made the brilliant decision to “sleep” with my son in the guest room. “Sleep” is in quotes because I did not really snooze. I feared rolling over and killing the kid, but he rested like a KING.

Here we are almost approaching my baby’s 8th month of life, and my original sleep routine is out the window. I now have to rock him to sleep EVERY NIGHT, which can take 30-40 minutes. If I try to put him in the crib too early, he bursts into tears.

What the…

How did this happen?

Let me be clear: I love the cuddles from rocking him to sleep. My concern is over the crying when I place him in the crib. The kid has total control over me. It extends beyond nighttime. He could be chilling out in his stroller at a restaurant, but if he sees me? Tears!! He wants me to pick him up. There are tears if I leave the room and tears if I break any of his rules.

Where did mommy go wrong? Oh and he doesn’t nap longer than a half hour, unless I hold him. People, I am spoiling my son. Let’s just hope I get it together by the time he becomes a toddler. The point of this story? Think twice before loudly or silently laughing at the struggles of other parents. Your time is likely coming.

So if you know of any books that might be helpful to this insecure mom, please share. I’d like to teach my boy to communicate without crying.

Thanks, Beyonce

The moment I saw Beyonce in concert for my tenth wedding anniversary, I was ready to quit my job and follow her around the world. FOLLOW HER AROUND THE WORLD.

Her show took me on such an emotional journey. It walked me through my maturation into a woman, reminded me of my joys and the most painful time in my life.

I didn’t realize that Beyonce had been the soundtrack of my burgeoning womanhood. From, “Boy, I know you want me I can see it in your eyes” to “I’mma keep on running cuz a winner don’t quit on themselves,” she has been motivating me with beautiful imagery, thumping music and magical vocals (that I match in the car, honey). I absolutely love her and no I am not a member of the BeyHive.

But the reason I was near tears as confetti flew and she thanked the crowd in Foxborough, Massachusetts, was simply because I recognized the power of music. I could sing just about every song she bellowed in that stadium, except the ones from her album, “4.” Want to know why? Infertility.

When she debuted her baby bump at the MTV awards in 2011, I wrote this blog: http://mrsdjrass.blogspot.com/2011/08/beyonces-belly.html. I was still hopeful that I could have a child – that I was not infertile. 1 in 8 couples battles infertility in some way and I didn’t want to be one of them.

Well, I WAS infertile. With each IVF and IUI failure, I became more bitter. I stopped listening to Beyonce. I reached a point where I wasn’t listening to music at all. It contained too much hope and love in the melodies, and I all I felt was anger.

I seemed fine on the outside, but I was dying inside. I felt God had abandoned me and my body had forsaken me. At my lowest moment, I tried to take my own life. That was my rock bottom.

It took five years, counseling, reading and a renewal of my understanding of God to claw my way out of that valley.

As I listened to Beyonce belt out songs from that period in my life, I cried. I spent years avoiding beauty and appreciating the full miracles of life. It seems silly, but that moment was the best gift my husband could give me to celebrate our ten years of marriage.

It was a reminder that we only live once. I can’t allow the desire for something I don’t have to rob me of a chance to enjoy and cherish something that I do have.

So congratulations, Beyonce. You got the talent and the three kids, but you reminded me that I have blessings too. Right now it’s my life, my husband, my son and our family. It’s music, it’s flowers and it’s my time on this beautiful Earth. I hope to never forget that again. So thank you, Beyonce.

11 Wedding Anniversaries

It’s my 11th wedding anniversary and this is my favorite one yet. The husband and I have the family we have always dreamed of, but more importantly we are still together, still in love and still fighting for this union.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from this relationship, it’s that nothing stays the same. You HAVE to grow and change for your marriage to work. Why? It’s because you are evolving daily and by the time you reach the 11th anniversary, you are not the same person who said, “I do.” Want to know why? Well quite simply, that’s life.

That’s why I LOVE Tiffany Dufu’s book, Drop The Ball.

She takes us along as her marriage blossoms into a full “All-in partnership.” Mrs. Dufu is the consummate working mom in my mind. She is successful in her career and she can challenge Martha Stewart in the kitchen, but she had to drop stereotypes and embrace help from her husband to make it all work.

Drop The Ball isn’t about doing less work. It’s about throwing stereotypes out of the window. Forget what you’ve learned: the household is the woman’s domain and a career is for the men. That does not work today. Women are working outside the home just as hard as men and that means that men have to do their part at home. If they love you, they will.

We watch as Mrs. Dufu begins to resent her husband after the birth of their child. He was still gliding along, while she was juggling the rigors of home and work. She had to “drop the ball” at home so he could pick it up, and they could BOTH succeed at this game called life.

When I put down the book, I found myself wishing I had picked it up during the first year of my marriage. I didn’t believe it was possible for both people in a marriage to have soaring success. I thought someone had to make a sacrifice. Without speaking to my HUSBAND about this, I decided I would be the person to put my career second. I was ready to be a wife and mother. Then infertility hit and I didn’t know what to do. I lost my way.

This book helped me do three things:

1. Remember why I am on this planet. The way I’ve handled my career has not done anything to reach that goal.
2. Re-evaluate my marriage. My husband is pretty all-in, but when he hired help to assist me in housekeeping, I took it as an insult. He was trying to give me a break. He didn’t want to mop the floors, so he hired someone who would. This book opened my eyes to the many ways my husband has my back. It also made me realize he would do more, if I just asked.
3. Drop The Ball on childcare. I quit my job to stay home with my son. I love every minute of it, but because I don’t have a job I thought I had to do EVERYTHING. Not True! I’m backing off and my husband and son are enjoying each other, without helicopter mom hovering. I’m accepting help without feeling like a failure.

This book is about women owning their right to success and understanding that their husband’s are more than capable of helping them at home. But the ladies have to let go of what Mrs. Dufu calls, “Home Control Disease.” It doesn’t matter if your husband chooses a bad outfit for your kid or hires someone to clean the house, as long as it gets done so you both have the same amount of time to dedicate to your jobs and kids.

I will admit that at the start of the book, I rolled my eyes at all of the sources she used to back up her theories, but in the end this is a book I’d recommend to women and men hoping to change the world with their careers, while raising amazing children.

Fighting Faith

Infertility wrecked me spiritually. I began to hate religion. I became a troll, writing disrespectful things on Joel Osteen’s Facebook page (I know. I became an internet jerk hiding behind a screen and a keyboard). I couldn’t understand how I could pray, beg and be a kind person, yet fail to conceive a child.

Want to know what led me back to religion? Sammy Davis, Jr.’s autobiography. Sounds weird, right? It is! But his explanation of why he chose to convert to Judaism helped me realize that my understanding of God was the problem. Not God.

I tell you all of this because we made our first trip to church as a family during Memorial Day Weekend. We were nervous because we have a 7 month old, but our little guy behaved about as good as you can expect. He let out a few coos, but we did not have a breakdown. Hallelujah!

The sermon actually spoke to IVF-Erika. The title was, “When Heaven ain’t talking!” Instead of blaming God for your misfortune or the ills of the world, you continue to pray and don’t let others penetrate your soul with negativity.

When I felt like God had forsaken me during multiple IVF attempts, everything around me seemed to suffer. I lost my confidence in my ability to do my job, and that put me on a totally different path in life. I didn’t realize that God doesn’t grant wishes, He stands by you and gives you the strength to survive. I wasn’t accepting what He had given, instead I thought he stopped caring about me and I gave up on myself.

I couldn’t understand the women in my infertility circle who suffered IVF negatives, adoption failures, and a miscarriage yet they still held fast to their faith. Again, it was because I had the wrong understanding of God.

My goal is to never let that happen to me again. I’m trying to teach my son that God isn’t this vengeful dude waiting for you to sin so that he can punish you. My son is the master of his domain. He has to make his own choices and own them. God is there for support and has provided a game plan for living a good life, but God won’t do the work for him.